THE START.
It was nearly a year after he had made up his mind to emigrate, before
Mr. Hardy was able to conclude all his arrangements. Then came the great
business of packing up. This is no trifling matter when a family of six
persons are going to make a move to a new country. Mr. Hardy had at
first thought of taking portable furniture with him, but had been told
by a friend who knew the country that every requisite could be obtained
at Buenos Ayres, the capital of the Argentine Republic, at a far less
price than he could convey such heavy articles from England. Still the
bulk of luggage was very large; and the boys, who had now left off their
farming and carpentering lessons, worked at home at packing-cases, and
had the satisfaction of turning their new acquirements to a useful
purpose. In addition to the personal baggage, Mr. Hardy was taking with
him ploughs and agricultural implements of English make, besides a good
stock of seeds of various kinds. These had been sent on direct by a
sailing ship, starting a fortnight before themselves. When their heavy
baggage was packed up, it too was sent off, so as to be put on board the
steamer by which they were to sail; and then came a long round of visits
to bid farewell to all their friends. This was a sad business; for
although the boys and their sisters were alike excited and delighted at
the thought of the life before them, still they could not but feel
sorrowful when the time came to leave all the friends they had known so
long, and the house they had lived in ever since they could remember.
This over, Mrs. Hardy and the children went to Liverpool, where they
were to embark; while Mr. Hardy remained behind for a day or two, to see
to the sale of the furniture of the house. The day after he joined the
family they embarked on board the _Barbadoes_, for Rio and Buenos Ayres.
Greatly were the girls amused at the tiny little cabin allotted to them
and their mother,--a similar little den being taken possession of by Mr.
Hardy and the boys. The smartness of the vessel, and the style of her
fittings, alike impressed and delighted them. It has not been mentioned
that Sarah, their housemaid, accompanied the party. She had been left
early an orphan, and had been taken as a nursemaid by Mrs. Hardy. As
time went on, and the little girls no longer required a nurse, she had
remained as housemaid, and having no friends, now willingly accompanied
them. Mr. Hardy had, to her great amusement, insisted upon her signing a
paper, agreeing, upon her master's paying her passage, to remain with
him for a year; at the end of which time she was to be at liberty to
marry or to leave them, should she choose.
Knowing the scarcity of young Englishwomen in the country that they were
going to, and the number of Englishmen doing well in the towns or as
farmers, Mr. Hardy had considered this precaution to be absolutely
necessary; as otherwise Sarah might have married and left them within a
month of her arrival. At the end of a year her so doing would not matter
so much, as by that time the party would be comfortably settled in their
new home; whereas during the necessary hardship at first, it would be a
great comfort having a faithful and reliable servant.
The last looks which the party cast toward England, as the Welsh coast
sank in the distance, were less melancholy than those of most emigrants.
The young people were all full of hope and excitement; while even Mrs.
Hardy felt but little disposed to give way to sorrow, as it had been
arranged that in three or four years, if all went well, she should bring
her daughters over to England to finish their education.
Very lovely was that first evening, and as they sat in a group together
upon deck, the little girls remarked that they did not think that the
sea was anything like as terrible as they had expected, and that they
did not feel the least sea-sick. Their father smiled: 'Wait a little, my
dears; there is an old proverb, "Don't halloo until you are out of the
wood."'
The next day was still perfectly calm; and when, towards evening, the
children were told that they were now fairly getting into the Bay of
Biscay, they could scarcely believe the intelligence.
'Why, one would think, Maud,' her father said, 'that you were
disappointed at its being calm, and that you really wanted a storm.'
'Oh, papa, I do think it would be great fun; it would be so curious not
to be able to walk about, and to see everything rolling and tumbling.
Don't you think so, boys?'
'Yes, I think so, Maud; great fun,' Charley said.
'Well, young people,' the captain, who had been standing by watching the
sun, now fast nearing the horizon, and who had overheard their remarks,
said, 'if it is any satisfaction to you, I can tell you that you are
very likely to have your wish gratified. But I question if you will like
it as much as you expect.'
'Ah, you expect wind, Captain Trevor?' Mr. Hardy said. 'I have been
thinking myself that the almost oppressive stillness of to-day, and the
look of the sunset, and these black clouds banking up in the south-west,
meant a change. What does the glass say?'
'It is falling very rapidly,' the captain answered. 'We are in for a
sou'-wester, and a stiff one too, or I am mistaken.'
Now that it appeared likely that their wishes were about to be
gratified, the young Hardys did not seem so pleased as they had
expected, although Charley still declared manfully that he was quite in
earnest, and that he did wish to see a real storm at sea.
As the sun set, the party still leaned against the bulwarks watching it,
and the great bank of clouds, which seemed every moment to be rising
higher and higher. There was still nearly a dead calm around them, and
the heavy beat of the paddles, as they lashed the water into foam, and
the dull thud of the engine, were the only sounds that broke the
stillness. Now and then, however, a short puff of wind ruffled the
water, and then died away again.
'Look at that great cloud, papa,' Hubert said; 'it almost looks as if it
were alive.'
'Yes, Hubert, it is very grand; and there is no doubt about there being
wind there.'
The great cloud bank appeared to be in constant motion. Its shape was
incessantly shifting and changing; now a great mass would roll upwards,
now sink down again; now the whole body would seem to roll over and over
upon itself; then small portions would break off from the mass, and sail
off by themselves, getting thinner and thinner, and disappearing at last
in the shape of fine streamers. Momentarily the whole of the heaving,
swelling mass rose higher and higher. It was very grand, but it was a
terrible grandeur; and the others were quite inclined to agree with
Ethel, who shrank close to her father, and put her hand in his, saying,
'I don't like that cloud, papa; it frightens me.'
At this moment Mrs. Hardy, who had been down below arranging her cabin,
came up to the group. 'What a dark cloud, Frank; and how it moves! Are
we going to have a storm, do you think?'
'Well, Clara, I think that we are in for a gale; and if you will take my
advice, you will go down at once while it is calm, and see that the
trunks, and everything that can roll about, are securely fastened up. I
will come down and help you. Boys, you had better go down and see that
everything is snug in our cabin.'
In a quarter of an hour the necessary arrangements were completed, but
even in that short time they could feel that a change was taking place.
There was now a steady but decided rolling motion, and the young ones
laughed as they found it difficult to walk steadily along the cabin.
Upon reaching the deck they saw that the smooth surface of the sea was
broken up by a long swell, that the wind now came in short but sharp
puffs, that the bank of clouds covered nearly half the sky, and that the
detached scud was now flying overhead. The previous stillness was gone;
and between the sudden gusts, the roar of the wind in the upper region
could be heard. The sun had set now, and a pall of deep blackness seemed
to hang from the cloud down to the sea; but at the line where cloud and
water touched, a gleam of dim white light appeared.
In preparation for the coming storm, the sailors had put on thick
waterproof coats. Many of the passengers had gone below, and those who
remained had followed the sailors' example, and had wrapped themselves
up in mackintoshes.
Every moment the gusts increased in frequency and power, and the regular
line of swell became broken up into confused white-headed waves. The
white gleam under the dark cloud grew wider and broader, and at last,
with a roar like that of a thousand wild beasts, the gale broke upon
them. Just before this, Mr. Hardy had taken Mrs. Hardy and the girls
below, promising the latter that they should come up later for a peep
out, if they still wished it. Charley and Hubert were leaning against
the bulwark when the gale struck them.
For a moment they were blinded and half choked by the force and fury of
the spray and wind, and crouched down behind their shelter to recover
themselves. Then, with a hearty laugh at their drenched appearance, they
made their way to the mainmast, and then, holding on by the belaying
pins, they were able to look fairly out on the gale. It was dark--so
dark that they could scarcely see as far as the foremast. Around, the
sea was white with foam; the wind blew so fiercely that they could
scarcely hear each other's voices, even when they shouted, and the
steamer laboured heavily against the fast rising sea. Here Mr. Hardy
joined them, and for some little time clung there, watching the
increasing fury of the gale; then, drenched and almost confused by the
strife of winds and water that they had been watching, they made their
way, with great difficulty, down into the cabin.
Here the feeling of sea-sickness, which the excitement of the scene had
kept off, increased rapidly; and they were glad to slip off their upper
clothes, and to throw themselves upon their berths before the paroxysm
of sickness came on.
When questioned afterwards as to the events of the next thirty-six
hours, the young Hardys were all obliged to confess that that time was
a sort of blank in their memory,--a sort of horrible nightmare, when one
moment they seemed to be on their heads, and the next upon their feet,
but never lying down in a comfortable position, when sometimes the top
of the cabin seemed under their feet, sometimes the floor over their
head. Then, for a change, everything would go round and round; the
noise, too, the groaning and the thumping and the cracking, the thud of
the waves and the thump of the paddles, and the general quivering, and
shaking, and creaking, and bewilderment;--altogether it was a most
unpleasant nightmare. They had all dim visions of Mr. Hardy coming in
several times to see after them, and to give them a cup of tea, and to
say something cheering to them; and all four had a distinct idea that
they had many times wished themselves dead.
Upon the second morning after the storm began, it showed some signs of
abating, and Mr. Hardy said to his sons, 'Now, boys, make an effort and
come upon deck; it's no use lying there; the fresh air will do you
good.' Two dismal groans were the only response to this appeal.
'Yes, I know that you both feel very bad, and that it is difficult to
turn out; still it is worth making the effort, and you will be very glad
of it afterwards. Come, jump up, else I shall empty the water-jug over
you. There, you need not take much trouble with your dressing,' he went
on, as the boys, seeing that he was in earnest, turned out of their
berths with a grievous moan. 'Just hold on by something, and get your
heads over the basin; I will empty the jugs on them. There, now you will
feel better; slip on your clothes and come up.'
It was hard work for Charley and Hubert to obey orders, for the ship
rolled so tremendously that they could only proceed with their dressing
by fits and starts, and were more than once interrupted by attacks of
their weary sea-sickness. However, their father stayed with them,
helping and joking with them until they were ready to go up. Then,
taking them by the arm, he assisted them up the stairs to the deck.
Miserable as the boys felt, they could not suppress an exclamation of
admiration at the magnificent scene before them. The sea was tossed up
in great masses of water, which, as they neared the ship, threatened to
overwhelm them, but which, as she rose on their summits, passed
harmlessly under her, hurling, however, tons of water upon her deck. The
wind was still blowing fiercely, but a rift in the clouds above, through
which the sun threw down a bright ray of light upon the tossing water,
showed that the gale was breaking.
The excitement of the scene, the difficulty of keeping their feet, and
the influence of the rushing wind, soon had the effect which their
father predicted. The boys' looks brightened, their courage returned;
and although they still had an occasional relapse of sickness, they felt
quite different beings, and would not have returned to the blank misery
of their cabins upon any consideration. They were soon able to eat a
piece of dry toast, which Mr. Hardy brought them up with a cup of tea at
breakfast-time, and to enjoy a basin of soup at twelve o'clock, after
which they pronounced themselves as cured.
By the afternoon the force of the wind had greatly abated, and although
a heavy sea still ran, the motion of the vessel was perceptibly easier.
The sun, too, shone out brightly and cheeringly, and Mr. Hardy was able
to bring the little girls, who had not suffered so severely as their
brothers, upon deck. Two more days of fine weather quite recruited all
the party; and great was their enjoyment as the _Barbadoes_ entered the
Tagus, and, steaming between its picturesque banks and past Cintra,
dropped her anchor off Lisbon.
As our object, however, is to relate the adventures of our young
settlers upon the Pampas of La Plate, we must not delay to describe the
pleasure they enjoyed in this their first experience in foreign lands,
nor to give an account of their subsequent voyage across the Atlantic,
or their admiration at the superb harbour of Rio. A few days' further
steaming and they arrived at the harbour of Buenos Ayres, where the two
great rivers, the Uruguay and the Parana, unite to form the wide sheet
of water called the River La Plate. It was night when the _Barbadoes_
dropped her anchor, and it was not until the morning that they obtained
their first view of their future home.
Very early were they astir, and as soon as it was broad daylight, all
four of the young ones were up on deck. Their first exclamation was one
of disappointment. The shores were perfectly flat, and, seen from the
distance at which they were anchored, little except the spires of the
churches and the roofs of a few of the more lofty houses could be seen.
After the magnificent harbour of Rio, this flat, uninteresting coast was
most disappointing.
'What a distance we are anchored from the shore!' Hubert said, when they
had recovered a little from their first feeling. 'It must be three or
four miles off.'
'Not so much as that, Hubert,' Maud, who was just a little fond of
contradicting, said; 'not more than two miles, I should think.'
Hubert stuck to his opinion; and as the captain came on deck they
referred the matter to him.
'The distance of objects across water is very deceiving,' he said. 'It
is from eight to nine miles to those buildings you see.'
Maud looked rather crestfallen, and Charley asked, 'Why do we anchor
such a long way off, captain?'
'Because the shore is so flat that there is no water for us to get in
any closer. In a couple of hours you will see boats coming out to fetch
you in; and unless it happens to be high tide, even these cannot get to
the beach, and you will have to land in carts.'
'In carts, Captain Trevor?' they all repeated; 'that will be a strange
way of landing.'
'Yes, it is,' the captain answered. 'I think that we can safely say that
the Argentine Republic is the only country in the world where the only
way to land at its chief city is in a cart.'
The captain's boat was by this time lowered, and he at once started for
shore with his papers. Soon after ten o'clock he returned, followed by a
number of boats. He brought also a letter to Mr. Hardy from an old
friend who had been settled for some years near Buenos Ayres, and whose
advice had decided him to fix upon that country as the scene of his
labours. It contained a warm welcome, and a hearty congratulation upon
their safe arrival. This letter had been written two or three days
previously, and had been left at the office of the steamship company. It
said, however, that the writer would hear of the arrival of the
steamer, and would have everything in readiness to take them out to his
place upon their landing.
Mr. Hardy had been in frequent communication with his friend from the
time that he had determined to emigrate, and Mr. Thompson's letters had
contained the warmest assurance of a welcome, and an invitation to make
his house their home until they had one of their own to go into; and now
this kind letter, coming off so instantly after their arrival, cheered
them all much, and made them feel less strange and to some extent at
home in the new country at once.